we're not children anymore
by MedusaOfTheSpecies
Summary: In the aftermath of Voldemort's destruction, a hero returns back to her city. :: Or, Ginny Weasley is Spider-Women and the world needs her. :: Spider-Gwen!AU for QLFC


**A/N:** Written for QLFC, Round 7. My prompt was the third Spider-Man movie. Since I don't care much for Spider-Man, I chose to loosely base my fic on the Spider-Gwen universe, where Gwen Stacey is Spider-Woman, plays in a band with Mary-Jane Watson, and saves the world every time.

The title is from Venice: The Musical.

* * *

 **...**

 **we're not children anymore**

 **...**

 **i.**

The number one rule to being a superhero is this: always expect the worst.

Ginny forgets, and then almost everyone dies.

 **...**

 **ii.**

She gets the text from Harry on a Thursday. It's anxious, just what she would expect from him.

[9/16, 9:46 PM] Harry James Potter: _Voldemort is back, Gin. People keep claiming to have seen him in the streets and now Dumbledore's dead. We need you to come home._

If Ginny tries, she can imagine Harry hunched over on the threadbare couch in the apartment he used to share with Ron and Hermione, biting his nails as he waits for her to come home. He has always been too kind for a world of hatred and evil.

Harry Potter is one of her favourite people in the world; it's not a secret. She goes home.

 **...**

 **iii.**

London looks different from what she remembers. Ginny is old enough to remember a time where people walked safely in the streets, where the sounds of laughter echoed outside and the sun shone down everyday.

Now, the city is grey. Lighter then in the second peak of Voldemort and his reign of evil, but empty in a way that mirrors her soul.

Still, in a sea of houses with the windows closed and curtains shut, one apartment is brightly lit even at midnight. Ginny knows every inch of it like the back of her hands, a leftover from the teenage years she spent playing the drums in the corner of it.

From memory, Ginny remembers that Pansy Parkinson's house is decorated in a style that can only be described as the opposite of minimalism. The ceiling is a glittery silver with a disco ball hanging of it, reflecting off every surface. The floor is lined by soft imported rugs and photos and posters cover the walls.

Ginny watches the apartment and then, bracing herself, she shoots a web out of her hand. She's a whole lot of negative things, but one thing she isn't is a coward. Even if it'll kill her, she'll try anyways.

Pulling herself up, she feels herself soaring high above the streetlight until she hits the window with a soft thud. It's half open, per usual, and Ginny slides through it. She's missed this, in a twisted sort of way: once upon a time, she was the kind of girl who almost saved the world.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley: Not the first person I expected to be crawling back through my window tonight."

At the sound of Pansy's voice, Ginny winces.

"Pansy— " Ginny begins, but chokes on the word. It comes out like a plea and even Queen Pansy Parkinson, heir to a family rich enough to start an empire and lead singer of a band named after her, flinches.

"I didn't think you were coming home," Pansy says, scratching at her royal purple nail polish unconsciously. Her hair falls neatly on one side but stands up on the other, her hair routine clearly interrupted by Ginny's arrival. "How long are you staying, this time?"

The 'this time' comment cuts deep, if only because Ginny knows Pansy too well. Pansy Parkinson is a twisted spiderweb of insecurities, of boys who love and leave her, of designer clothing that goes out of style too fast to satisfy her.

Once, Ginny had tangled herself in that web. At the end of the first war against Voldemort, the Parkinson had been arrested for crimes against humanity, leaving Pansy a ward of the state. Harry had become one too, orphaned by the war and they had become friends. Ginny and Pansy had met only because of him, but had become friends only because of their shared desire for mischief.

In the second war — well, Ginny doesn't like to think about that.

"I'm staying as long as it takes this time, Pans. I know I didn't RSVP my arrival but I sold my apartment and the Burrow is… " Ginny flinches at the thought of her childhood home, burned down with her family still inside it. "Well, the Burrow isn't an option. Can I stay here?"

Pansy stares, cocking her head to the side like she's trying to memorize this moment, but just as she's about to response, Harry bursts in through the front door.

"Ginny! You came! I mean, I knew you would, but you read the text and never responded and well, the memories you have here are just… well, not the best… but I knew I'd find you here. Did I interrupt something?"

"You interrupted Spider-Woman's peaceful return, Potter," Pansy snarks fondly, her eyes softening even as she puts her hands on her hips in a haughty motion. "Do you have something important to say or do you just like yelling in my apartment?"

Ginny can't help but grin at the familiar banter, but Harry quickly pales, his face turning solemn and sad.

"You're just in time, Gin," he says quietly, fluffing his long and unruly hair in a manner far too familiar. "I figured out Voldemort's pattern of attack: every seven days. Seven is considered a magical number, and what he does is just… in a twisted way, it's magic. Even noseless freaks have to believe in something … and six days just passed."

Ginny finds herself looking around as Harry talks: at a city filled with ghosts, at a boy abandoned by a cruel world, at a girl who gives back just as sharp as she gets.

She may have lost almost everything, but Ginny feels it in her bones: there are still things left that she doesn't want to lose, and this time, she's going to succeed in stopping Voldemort. Everything is possible if she's got enough nerve.

…

 **iv.**

She sleeps restlessly that night, dozing in and out of sleep on Pansy's silk-covered couch. Her spider-suit hangs on a chair near her, the red illuminated by moonlight streaking in through the windows.

"Can't sleep?"

Ginny looks up to find Pansy standing behind the couch, her black curls falling naturally against her shoulder blades. She looks innocent, makeup scrubbed and fancy clothes retired for the night.

"I need some air," Ginny says, stretching and almost groaning at the satisfying pop of her muscles.

Pansy gestured outside, rolling her eyes. "What's stopping you?"

"I need to save my energy for Voldemort. If he attacks tomorrow, I'm going to beat him. For my family's sake."

At that, Pansy falls silent for a minute before she bulldozes on. "I hate to be the voice of reason, Weasley, but the last thing your family would want is for you to die a martyr for their sake."

Ginny let's out a bitter snort. "Do you remember what he did last time? I was doing so well as a superhero: I was Spider-Woman and all it took was a radioactive spider. Voldemort was killing so many for power, but I thought I could handle it. We all thought his power was the ability to regurgitate his strength because he seemed immortal but…"

"I know. I was there, if you remember." Pansy grabs Ginny's hand, squeezing her hand so tightly it hurts. "His power is mind-control and it's dangerous. Trust me, I'm incapable of forgetting. Every single day at my parent's trial, they pleaded that defense and nobody believed it until after you stopped him. Not that they didn't chose his cause. They did. But you didn't, Weasley."

"Then you remember what he made me do," Ginny spits out in anger. "He made me set the Burrow on fire and I was powerless to stop my family's deaths, Pansy. I stopped him but it was only temporary. After that, I just ran away and I trained because I refuse to lose every again."

Pansy points up at the ceiling. "Do your spider trick, Ginevra."

Ginny gives her a pointed look, but does it anyways. Shooting a web at the ceiling, she pulls herself up to it and sticks onto it. "Well?"

In answer, Pansy kisses her. It's a sharp angle, upside down, and their teeth crash into each other. Pansy tastes like toothpaste and Ginny hates mint usually, but Pansy's lips are soft and her smile is satisfied and it's a good look.

"What was that for?" Ginny asks when they break away.

"For memory. Don't you dare die on me, Ginny Weasley. You better win, you noble idiot."

At that, Ginny smiles genuinely for the first time in a long time.

…

 **v.**

That morning, Ginny wakes up to an explosion. Pansy startles up, rubbing sleep off her face. Harry runs into the room a minute later, heading to the window.

"He's here," Harry says grimly. "Are you ready, Ginny?"

Ginny looks: at a city that deserves to live in freedom, at a boy who still has hope after the end of his world, at a girl who kisses her and commands her to come home.

Out there, a red-eyed villain wants to destroy her life like he destroyed her families.

Out there, Ginny won't let him. For this, she will have enough bravery and nerve. She is Spider-Woman and she is going to save her city, no matter what it takes.


End file.
